


The Butler's Lady

by WeaverOfWords (Fantasy_elf)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Caring Sebastian, Empath, F/M, Jealous Sebastian, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Pickpockets, Possessive Sebastian, Rags to Riches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-09-01 12:03:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasy_elf/pseuds/WeaverOfWords
Summary: For as long as I can remember, I've always been able to read people. Their thoughts, their feelings, their memories - all with a single touch. It is both my curse and my gift. Truth be told, it has its uses, especially when you're a pickpocket like me. When I had first touched him, I was expecting a normal, everyday man. However, what I found was something else entirely. Something dark and dangerous. A demon in the form of a deadly, yet beautiful man disguised as a butler... I shouldn't have tried to steal his pocket watch. I should have known it was pointless to try and run from him. Now he wants something from me. I'm not entirely sure what it is, but I have a feeling it's more than just my soul.Sebastian Michaelis/Original Female Character (romance with mature content later on)





	1. Chapter 1

_London, Oxford Street - Late 1880's_

-o-o-

The aching in my toes would not relent. The cold air of the morning seeped into me, stealing the very warmth from my blood. I pulled my shawl further around my shoulders, trying to calm the shivering in my limbs. The damp cobblestones beneath my boots reflected and gleamed like darkened glass. I sniffed, wiping at my nose with the sleeve of my faded grey gown. With weary eyes, I observed the crowd around me, taking in every person. Every man, woman, child and stray beast that walked the bustling streets of London, Oxford Street. The weather was miserable. Rain drizzled from the grey clouds overhead and mist weaved across the streets like a wandering spectre. Yet despite the gloomy conditions of the day, it was perfect for what we had planned.

I turned to find one of my companions, a small boy of no older than twelve eyeing up the crowd with an alarming hungry intent for one so young. Skippy rubbed his hands together, trying to seek warmth. The shirt on his back was far too big for him, revealing the narrow bones of his shoulders. I then looked to the male standing beside him. Broad and sturdy, Peter possessed a self confidence that both inspired and intimidated others. Even in his tattered coat he looked the part of a leader, sure and in total control. He perused his surroundings, seeking the perfect victim. His attention drew to a stop, a smile rising across his face.

“Them,” he said lowly, giving a nod towards a dark, elegant carriage that was rolling in to a stop at the opposite end of the market.

The target was easy enough; there was only two of them. From a distance I could make out the willowy shape of a figure in a long black coat and top hat; a man servant of some kind. He stepped down from the driver's seat, tying the reins up, before soothing the two chestnut horses at the front. He then stepped around towards the doors of the carriage and opened them to reveal a finely dressed boy inside. In all blue, the young lord's appearance screamed of wealth. Though he looked like a child, he had the air of an aristocrat, proud and slightly arrogant. 

“Go for the lad, he's an easy hit,” Peter murmured, snapping me from my observation. 

I frowned. The ends of my long brown hair sliding across my shoulders as I tilted my head at him in disbelief. “But... he's only a boy. Surely you don't mean to--”

He cast me a quick but pointed glare. “Do you want to eat or not?”

I chewed on my bottom lip, torn with indecision. Desperate times called for desperate measures. It had been days since any of us had eaten anything substantial. The success of this hit was important, not only to myself, but to the others back at the den too. My insides screamed at me as hunger gnawed, refusing to be ignored. Every fiber of my being insisted that I do this, to survive. Yet my chest tightened at the prospect of stealing from a child. 

“I won't do it.” The words came out before I could stop them.

“Don't be ridiculous, Isabella.”

I shook my head, looking back towards the carriage and the small, well dressed boy with trepidation. “I can't... it's not right.”

A hand fisted into the front of my dress suddenly, yanking me almost to my toes. Peters scarred and weathered face sneered down at me, his breath like a furnace against my cheeks. His chest pressed against mine. I cringed back, shoulders scrunching in a protective gesture against his growing wrath.

“You'll do as you're told,” he growled. “If you want to survive I suggest you shut your pie hole and get on with it. Don't start getting soft in the head, we need you in on this.”

But there had to be some kind of alternative. Some kind of compromise. I couldn't allow this to happen. Not like this.

"What about the other one?” I blurted without thinking, gesturing my head towards the second, more taller of the two targets.

The grip on my front slackened and my feet found the floor again. Peter paused, eyeing the manservant with interest, considering my suggestion. 

“The butler?” The thin line of his mouth titled, uncertain, chewing on a thought. Weighing up the risk and the reward. 

“I think I saw a chain hanging from his vest,” Skippy piped up, dancing on his feet in excitement. “Possibly a silver snuff box, or a watch?”

“Might be worth a shot,” Peter nodded and I noticed the glint of greed in his expression. “All right then, this is what's going to happen. I'll approach first and go for the bump, once he's distracted Skippy will sneak in and take the goods. If all goes well, we'll make a run for it. But just in case it doesn't, follow behind us, Izzy. If the guy makes any movement to struggle or draw attention to us you're going to jump in and do _your thing_. So, are we all clear on what we're doing?”

Skippy nodded, shuffling with barely controlled excitement. I nodded as well, slowly drawing the gloves from my hand, baring them to the open air. I wriggled my fingers, my palms tingling into wake as heat surged across the sensitive flesh. I hated delving into the minds of others, invading on their lives and privacy, but it often had its uses. 

“All right, let's move,” Peter said, making a swift gesture that indicated that we should split up and spread out. 

Feigning nonchalance, I swept my way through the bustling crowd, slowly edging my way towards the large, intricate carriage. I paused before a stall, pretending to look at the items on display, only to continue on my way and follow behind Skippy's small figure. As we finally reached the target, my heart began to pound dangerously, my pulse throbbing within my throat as adrenaline surged.

The young boy, the lord, had stepped down from the carriage and was waiting for his servant to assist him. As I crept around the other side, I peered to find the butler with his back to me, standing naught but a few paces away. He was bent over slightly, his black sleek form fiddling with something on one of the horses. 

“Hurry up, Sebastian, we don't have all day. I want to get this over and done with so that we can return back home,” the young lord called suddenly. I gave a start and crouched low by one of the wheels, pretending to retie one of my boot laces to prevent any suspicious glances from those nearby. 

“Yes, my lord. One moment please, I am almost finished.”

I froze, stunned into stillness by that voice. Though low and deep, it wrapped around my senses like fog and steel all at once. Sultry in tone, it held a note of something that sent a shiver rolling down my already chilled back. Warning warred in my mind and an uneasy feeling settled deep in my gut. 

We shouldn't do this. This is a bad idea. 

But it was too late for that. Merely a second later Peter's broad form stepped from the side, heading straight towards the butler and jarring into the man's right shoulder. Peter jolted, knocked back from the contact, yet the butler himself barely moved an inch. Tilting his tattered hat in apology, Peter gave a bow before flashing the man a sly smile. 

“Pardon me, guv'ner.”

“That's quite all right,” the butler replied, eerily calm. His tone silken, almost.. _. knowing._

I could only watch in further horror as Skippy's small form approached, his little arm deftly reaching for the stranger's pocket. A white-gloved hand lashed out, fast as a snake, and wrapped around his forearm, catching him in the act. Skippy gave a squeal of fright, trying to yank himself free.

“However, I would appreciate it if your little friend would keep his hands to himself. After all, theft is a punishable crime and I am rather fond of my pocket watch.”

Oh, no... busted. 

“Izzy, now!”

I shot forward from my hiding spot. The skirt of my gown whipped against my legs, almost tripping me in my haste. It all happened so fast. One moment I was standing a safe distance away from the scene, and then next I was right there amongst the chaos. I noticed the way the butlers elegant back straightened, becoming aware of my presence coming up behind him. My heart pounded. I reached out and grabbed for the gloved hand that held Skippy captive. My fingers slid up, casting across the smooth fabric before dipping into the cuff of the stranger's sleeve, my skin making direct contact with his. 

_Release him._ I sent the urged through to him, channelling the command. I pushed my will against his, only to falter when it was met with complete emptiness. I had expected a kaleidoscope of memories and thoughts to bombard me. A whirlwind of emotions. Of something. Anything! But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Time seemed to stop. The hairs on the back of my nape prickled. A sense of awareness, of impending doom caused a whimper to climb up into my throat. My head rose, eyes sliding from his slender wrist, up a long arm and towards a pale, handsome face. If I hadn't been aware of how incredibly tall he was before, I was now. My neck craned back trying to look up at him. Inky black hair swayed, drifting upon the wind. Red eyes, like crimson fire, slid sideways to me, roaming across my face in mild curiosity. 

_Red eyes..._

What was he? I barely had the chance to consider the question before the strangest thing began to happen. Like crumbling ash the world around us began to fade away, disintegrating before my very eyes. Shadows and blackness began to descend from the sky. Wait, no, not shadows...

_Feathers._

Black feathers, like that of a crow, cascaded down around our two figures like a gentle snow. I blinked, staring in wide eyed silence. The ethereal man before me smiled and I swore my heart seized to beat as I caught a glimpse of sharp, pointed teeth. The suit that covered his towering frame began to melt away, revealing skin tight black leather underneath. Horns grew, curling up around his head. Dark wings stretched out, spreading from his back like that of an angel... An angel of death. 

_He wasn't human._.. the truth of it hit me like an avalanche. 

The brightness of his eyes intensified, glowing dangerously. The pupils grew slitted, like that of a felines, narrowing upon me with unfathomable intent. 

“Oh my, what have we here?” His voice, smooth and refined like velvet, sent goosebumps across my arms. “It looks like my little secret has been found out. This may become quite problematic, don't you think, my dear?”

The clear, eloquent clarity of his words gave nothing away. He seemed neither concerned, nor angry for my sudden appearance or intervention. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would have even considered the notion that he'd known I'd been there all along... As if he'd been expecting me to come.

“Izzy, run!” Someone shouted, snapping me from the enchantment.

The world surged back to me and I flew back, breaking the contact between the stranger and I. Without needing encouragement, I spun on my heels and darted away into the throng of the crowd. Footsteps echoed, following steadily and I knew without looking that Peter and Skippy followed behind me. In and out, I weaved through the streets, running as if the devil himself chased me. I ducked between the stalls, taking a swift left down one of the winding alleyways. For what seemed like an age, I ran and ran, refusing to stop until my lungs burned for much needed air. I threw myself down behind a nearly barrel, breathing hard, my chest threatening to explode. 

_What on earth was he?_ I couldn't grasp or make sense out of what had just happened. Of what I'd just seen. The wings. The horns. The inhuman, devastatingly beautiful eyes. My mind screamed, telling me that what I had seen was truth. Yet logic intervened, telling me that such things were impossible. 

“Do you have the watch, Skippy?” 

Voices came from beside me and I spun to find Peter and Skippy crouched down beside me. I had been so lost in thought that I hadn't even been aware of them, until now. 

The younger boy shook his blonde head, saddened. “He caught me before I could take it.”

“God dammit!” Peter lashed out, kicking with all his might against a nearby crate. The wooden box shattered noisily, making me flinch. “What the hell happened back there, Izzy? You were supposed to distract him!”

“I don't know what happened,” I murmured, my brain completely enveloped in fog and confusion. 

Hands ensnared the front of my dress and before I could blink I was hefted up and slammed back against the nearby wall. Cringing back, I lifted my hands, waiting for the impact of a fist against my face. When none came, I lifted my eyes up towards Peter's snarling face, swallowing back the fear creeping up the back of my throat. 

“You fucking idiot, get your head out of the fucking clouds. You've just lost us our winnings and now we have nothing to go back with,” he bit out, barely containing himself. “This whole day has been a complete balls up.”

“I'm... sorry, it won't happen again,” I stammered, still trying to get a grip over myself.

Roughly, I was shoved away and released. Without a word Peter turned away and stepped out into the street. Skippy cast me a worried, sympathetic look before following after him. I slowly trailed after them, guilt and shame settling in my gut like a heavy weight.

The walk back to the den was awkward and long. The drizzling rain dampened my gown and hair, causing it to plaster against me. By the time we reached the old storehouse I was almost to the point of tears. It was a small place, an empty shell of a building without windows or doors. But it was home. It was safety. I followed the two males into the doorway, heading towards the back of the room where a set of wooden stairs trailed down into the cellar below. Descending down, I cast a look around the empty racks and barrels; a ghost of a reminder of the winery that had been there before. Familiar faces smiled at us in greeting; a small child, a woman and another young man in a tan-coloured coat. 

“So, how'd it go?” Deni asked, stepping forward, his expression eager.

“Ask Isabella.” Was all Peter said before storming towards the opposite end of the dank room. 

All eyes turned to me and in the dim candlelight I saw the disappointment dawn upon their faces.

“I'm sorry, I screwed up.” It was all I could say as my bottom lip began to tremble. God, what was wrong with me? We'd failed many times before in the past, yet for some reason this one really hit home.

In silence, I walked over to my own pallet in the corner of the area; a small makeshift bed made up of old straw and stolen sheets. I slipped the wet shawl from my shoulders.

“Mama.” It was little Joshua who spoke from beside his mother, Greta. “I'm hungry.”

“Me too, my love,” Greta responded, gently smoothing a lock of hair away from the youngster's eyes. 

“Can I have something to eat?”

“Not today, Precious. Maybe tomorrow,” She urged in a soothing tone. “One day we'll have a whole banquet of foods to eat. With bread and stew, and honey as well. We'll eat so much that we'll get fat and won't be able to move.”

The boy gave a giggle at her nonsense, yet the sound broke my heart. I'd seen first hand people dying of starvation and poverty; London was rife with it. Where the poor struggled and the rich prospered. The people around me were my family, we looked out for one another. But today I had made a critical error and failed them all. I had panicked, forgetting myself when others had been depending on me. I wanted so desperately to tell them, to share with the others what I had seen, yet deep down I knew that they wouldn't have believed me. How could one even begin to describe what I had seen during that brief moment with the red eyed stranger? I had seen him. Truly seen him. And he had seen me.

With a sigh, I released the small scrap of curtain that partitioned and separated our sleep quarters. With shaking fingers I began to unfasten my gown, wishing more than anything that I had something warmer to wear. I barely made it to the fourth button when I began to cough. My shoulders shook with the attack. My lungs grew heavy, rattling with each wheezing gasp. I covered my mouth and slid down to kneel upon the cold floor. After a moment, it passed and I took a deep cleansing breath. I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the bed. I sighed again as the cool sheets slid against my heated skin.

It was then I heard it.

Water pouring, like the trickling of a stream. Followed by the soft clinking of pottery or china. Something slid into the corner of my vision and I idly lifted my head to find a white-gloved hand holding a finely painted cup and saucer inches away from my person.

“My goodness, that is quite a cough you have. Here, take some refreshments, it may help.”

The blood in my veins turned to ice. Sheer terror spiked down my back, pinning me into place. With all the slowness of a frightened rabbit before a cat, I looked up. My neck craned back, taking in the immaculate black fitted suit and long elegant coat. Onyx hair gleamed in the dim flickering light.

It was him. The butler from the town square.

Eyes, bright and red as rubies, stared down at me. Calmly, as though it was completely natural for him to be standing there.

“It is earl grey, and very good quality too.”

Speechless, I could only stare up at him, gripped with fear. What was he doing here? How had he found us? 

Someone rose up from the bed nearby, peering curiously in our direction. Someone stepped forward from behind a shelving unit. Peter froze, eyes widening upon the intruder. All eyes suddenly fell towards their new unwelcome visitor. Their sanctuary had been found. A fox was now amongst the chickens.

Someone screamed. Voices rose up in crescendo, and then the chaos began...


	2. Chapter 2

Shock and surprise rendered me speechless as I stared up at the slender, elegant figure towering above me. In his midnight coat and trousers, his pale face stood out in stark contrast. Otherworldly and inhuman. I looked down towards the cup and saucer, wondering in alarm where he had even gotten the items from. It was almost as if he'd conjured them out of nowhere, from the very air itself. Shooting upright, I staggered back, creating a much needed distance away from his willowy form. The long lengths of his inky hair moved as he titled his head at me. A smile, serene and yet underlined with sly amusement, graced his lips. 

I heard rather than saw the others in the room rush forward, their voices rising in alarm. Peters broad figure stepped forward, his shoulders set in challenge. Within his grip was a thick splintered plank of wood, which he raised in warning, his intent clear. 

“Who the hell are you?” he threatened with menace. “How did you get in here?”

I wondered the exact same thing. In quiet stillness I considered the stranger's abrupt appearance. How had he found us? No one was aware of this place. Only us. 

The butler placed a gloved hand upon his chest. The gesture appeared to be one of deep regret, yet it did not match the calmness across his handsome face. 

“Good evening, my deepest apologies for barging in so rudely like this, I mean no ill intent.” His voice, smooth and clear like crystalline waters, snagged my attention and held me captive. 

Peter shifted, his arm lowering as realisation dawned. “Eh? You're him. You're that snob we tried to swipe back in the town.” He gave a snort of deep laughter before sending the taller male an arrogant glare. “You've got a lot of nerve being here, Mister. I suggest you leave unless you want me to give you a good walloping.”

The butler chuckled, holding his hands up in an innocent manner as if to prove his harmlessness. “Now, now, there's no need to be hostile, Mr finch. As I've already said, I mean no harm to you or yours.”

Peter stilled. “How... how do you know my name?”

Unsettled and uneasy, I edged my way towards Peter, placing myself behind him as if he would somehow offer some form of protection. Those clever crimson eyes narrowed upon me, stalking me across the room. Deep down I knew the wooden weapon in Peter's hand would do nothing against the man standing before us. I'd seen a glimpse of what this man was, and he was anything but normal. Not even a human. 

“Please, allow me to introduce myself.” The man bowed in a motion of elegance and grace. His gaze fastened firmly onto me, causing me to swallow thickly. “My name is Sebastian Michaelis. I am butler and protector of Lord Ciel Phantomhive and the Phantomhive household... that, and a few others things.” His flashed me a subtle wink and my stomach tightened.

He was charming, this intruder of theirs. But he was also sly and good at hiding in plain sight. Everything about him both lured and repelled me. Danger clung to him like a second skin, making me feel very much like a rabbit trapped by a hunter. 

“What do you want?” Peter asked, echoing my own inner train of thoughts. 

The butler, Michaelis, shrugged as if the answer was obvious. “I'm here to make amends, as it would seem there has been a misunderstanding and I could not walk away without remedying the situation.”

Peter's frown deepened. “Situation? What situation?”

“Why, your impoverished circumstances, of course. What kind of butler would I be to simply stand by and watch women and children go hungry like this? My young lord is a generous soul and he wishes to offer you a small token as an apology.”

He gave a smooth gesture of his arm towards the far side of the room where a long table now sat. I blinked, taken aback by its sudden appearance, wondering where it had come from. Magic perhaps? I couldn't seem to wrap my head around it. Upon the table sat endless plates and platters of foods: meats, cheeses, breads and sweet treats. My companions rushed over to it with excited voices, grabbing and tasting at the feast on display. 

“Look! There's cake too!”

“Deni, don't keep it all to yourself. Share with us too!”

The only two people who did not move forward to join them was myself and Peter. Unease rolled through my gut, causing me to chew on my bottom lip. 

An apology? I blinked, stunned. Was he mad? Surely he must be. None of this was making any sense. We were the ones who had tried to steal from him, yet here he stood, offering all this bountiful food... but why?

“We don't need your charity. Get out,” Peter said, his stubborn pride evident even as he licked at his lips in hunger. 

“Oh, and I almost forgot...” Sebastian added smoothly, reaching into the lapels of his elegant black coat to retrieve a small brown pouch. With a quick motion, he threw it down across one of the tables nearby and the contents within jingled. “I am also to give you this as well.”

Giving in to temptation, Peter stepped closer to the bundle and lifted it into his hand, testing the heavy weight in his broad palm before taking a peek inside. 

“Jesus christ, there's a small fortune in here,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. One by one he began to count the coins.

Now that he had moved away from me, I suddenly felt cornered and alone with the dark-haired stranger. Everyone else had vacated to the opposite end of the room, and now only he and I remained. My feet shuffled, my gaze dropping away as Sebastian's red eyes slid towards me. His unblinking stare settled upon me like a brand, pinning me into place. He took a slow, calculating step forward and smiled. That same charming yet ominous smile that made a chill sweep down my back like an icy wave.

“Isabella Harp,” he said, almost with a purr-like quality. Hearing my full name upon his lips made me startle and grow rigid with dread. “We have much to discuss, you and I. Things that I'm sure you would not like your dear friends to become involved with.”

I began to shake, my entire length trembling as I tried to find the words to speak. 

“I won't tell anyone...” I said as fear rose into my throat. “... about what I saw...”

Sebastian nodded, a slow motion of agreement as if he already knew. “I know you won't. You've had amples of opportunity to do so and yet you have not uttered a single word.”

I had no idea what to say in response. He seemed to know so much about us, about me, as if he'd been watching us all this time through the very walls.

“What do you want?” My voice shook and died away when he smirked, giving me a glimpse of sharp canine teeth. 

“Just you, my dear.” His tone was light and friendly, but coldness descended at his words. “Only you.”

At my troubled silence he continued, motioning towards the group of people who flocked around the table like vultures around a corpse. “My Lord Phantomhive is kind, don't you think? He can provide them with enough food and coin to last them a lifetime... Imagine the joy that would bring to them.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, my suspicious nature clear. “But at what cost?” I asked, trying to fathom his intent. 

He chuckled, peering down the length of his straight nose to me with undisguised interest. “You're perceptive, that's good. I have a feeling you are going to be a very interesting young woman to know, Miss Harp.”

My feet moved, taking a wary step back away from him. “You don't need to know me.”

“Oh, but I do,” he replied smoothly. His towering form followed me, maintaining the short distance between us, much to my dismay. I felt like a tiny creature being stalked by a tiger, cornered and surrounded by his presence. My neck craned back, trying to keep my gaze locked to his, even when my mind screamed at me to run and hide from him. “You _know_ about me, and perhaps a little too much for my liking. I think it is only fair to allow me the same courtesy in return.”

“No, thank you. I'm afraid I must decline,” I said, matching his cool formality. “Look, we really appreciate your help, but...”

“But?” He tilted his head, the gesture almost playful. Teasing. He was clearly having fun with me; like a cat that plays with the mouse before devouring it. 

I clenched my fist at my sides, my annoyance growing. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go and leave us alone, but it would have been useless. This wasn't a normal man I was dealing with. He would not obey me, nor anyone else. He was a law unto himself, a force of nature. 

Before I could speak, Peter turned to us and I caught the strange gleam in his icy blue eyes. I recognised it instantly, having seen it so many times before... _Greed_. He jiggled the bag in his hand, contemplating something. 

“You know, this isn't going to be enough for us all to share around. After all, you did give Skippy a nasty scare when you grabbed him. I ended up twisting my knee too, and doctor fees can be pretty hefty these days.”

“Hm?” The butler placed a white finger to his lips in a feigned gesture of concern. “My goodness, you're absolutely right. How remiss of me.” Without faltering, he pulled out another pouch from his coat and tossed it towards Peter. The shorter male caught it with ease in one hand, his eyes bulging in surprise. 

“Does that satisfy you, Mr Finch?”

“Peter...” I whisper. My dread rising as I silently willed my companion to see past the wealth in his grasp and take notice of how strange and twisted the situation had become. 

“Holy shit,” Peter murmured, the glint in his eyes growing until he glanced in my direction. “And what about Izzy? She'll need extra as well. Her cough has been getting worse over the last few weeks now, she'll need medicine.”

With graceful, nonchalant movements, Sebastian began to straighten at his gloves. “Oh, you need not worry for her, you can rest assured that we'll take good care of her.”

I froze at that. Everyone stopped and turned towards us as well, curious. 

“What?” it was echoed, spoken by my own lips and Peter's. 

The butler lifted a dark brow, his smirk growing, turning sly. “Oh? Didn't she tell you? Miss Harp has agreed to return with me and become one of the Phantomhive's household servants. Do not fret, for it is a truly wonderful opportunity for one such as she. I'm sure you are all very pleased for her.”

“Are you leaving us, Izzy?” Little Joshua stepped closer, his cherub sweet face a visage of sadness. 

“No, I'm not.” I shook my head and glared at the butler as he lifted an amused brow at my biting tone. Who was he to think he could just enter my life and manipulate it like this? “I won't go anywhere with you, so stop playing games.”

“Maybe you should go with him, dearest.” It was Greta that spoke up, her aged but still beautiful face almost pleading. “It would be good for you. This is your chance to get away from here and live your life. You've done so much for us already.”

What madness had gripped her, I was unsure. But surely she wasn't suggesting I go with this strange man, away from all of them. I looked to Peter, my worry evident as I tried to read his reaction. 

After a long moment of silence, he gave a shrug and spoke. “It doesn't matter to me, do as you like.”

Hurt stabbed deep in the depths of my being at his cold answer. I sent an accusing glare towards the butler, Sebastian. The dark red of eyes seemed to soften as if sensing my turmoil and taking pity on me. 

“Who are you?” I whispered, trying to swallow back the knot of emotions that rose up to choke me. “Are you the devil?”

My tormentor chuckled. “No, not the devil, my lady. I am merely nothing more than a servant and simply one _hell_ of a butler... Shall we?” His arm lifted, a perfect white hand held out to me in offering. “Come, my young lord will be waiting for us to return.”

It was true. He actually believed I was going to go with him. Like it was that simple. “You can't be serious.”

He tsked at me, like one would at a naughty, disobedient child. “Think carefully now. I am a patient creature, but I would hate for things to turn... _unpleasant._ ”

I shivered. “Are you threatening me, Mr Michaelis?”

He didn't answer me. He didn't need to. The hooded look he gave me robbed me of my courage, stripping me bare until I felt helpless and naked before him. The truth of the situation hit me full force. I was a mortal, weak and useless against him. One thing was for certain though; I regretted ever meeting him. I regretted ever laying my hands upon him and seeing him for what he was. 

A creature of the darkness. A demon. A monster. 

“Please... don't do this.” I tried, hoping he would somehow change his mind and show mercy. 

My heartbeat skipped as he took a step closer, standing so close so that I could almost touch him. Crimson eyes bore into me, searching and knowing. Everything about him was shrouded in an aura of power and mystery, of something ancient and unworthy for my mere mortal self to behold. 

“Some things are meant to be a mystery in this world, Miss harp.” The playful edge in his voice was gone, replaced with a seriousness that was just as terrifying. If not, more so. “Those things, once seen, cannot be unseen again. There is a price to pay for prying, curious minds... or should I say, in your case, _hands_.”

His white hand rose again between us, long fingers outstretched. Beckoning. 

With little else to do, I reached forward. My fingers hovered inches above his palm tentatively. Uncertain. As if sensing my reluctance, he surged closer, encasing my hand with his larger one, sealing us together. His cool touch seeped into my skin and I lifted my gaze to find him smiling at me gently, almost with fondness. 

“Excellent choice, Miss Harp. I do believe we are going to get along splendidly.”


	3. Chapter 3

The carriage ride that followed after that was long and somewhat awkward. If others were to know that I was currently travelling alone with an unknown man, there would surely be gossip all the way from London to Scotland Yard. Though the butler remained cordial and kept to the outside driver's seat, it still felt strange. I kept ever vigilant, aware of every noise and place that we passed. The carriage itself was beautiful, lavishly upholstered with velveteen drapes and the finest seats. I had never ridden in one before and was quickly becoming accustomed to its jostling movements. I noticed absently that the young boy from early on was nowhere to be seen. The dark-haired butler, Mr Michaelis, had hardly said a single word to me since our departure from the den and his silent confidence was unnerving, to say the least. After all, he wasn't a man, per se, not even a human, but something else entirely.   
  
I pondered back to the events of the day, repeating them in my mind. I couldn’t help but feel trepidation at the way he'd manipulated the situation. With such skill and cunning, he had left me in no doubt of his ability in getting his own way in matters. I’d always prided myself on being in control of the things that happened around me, always able to talk or wrangle my way out of difficult situations; living on the streets made you that way. Yet the slender manservant had swept the carpet from beneath my feet, removing all chance and choice. It had all happened so fast and I had been completely helpless to it all. Even now I struggled to come to grips with what was happening. As if I were living some treacherous dream, just waiting to awaken.   
  
With a sigh, I stared out of the large window next to me, taking in the rolling mist across the glistening fields. The sun kissed the horizon, a creeping reminder that night would soon be upon us. Already the soft halo of the moon was showing itself in hello. The rain continued to drizzle down from the sky mimicking my low mood.   
  
With a shiver and a brief yawn, I pulled the woollen blanket further across my body, seeking its warmth. The butler had handed it to me as soon as I had taken my seat as if predicting I would somehow need it. At first, I had rejected the offering, but now silently thanked him for it. The thin, damp dress clung to me and my wet boots caused my toes to ache with the cold.   
  
Where were we even going? It was all still a mystery to me. Phantomhive Manor, or so the butler had called it.   
  
For what seemed like an age, we journeyed through the fog. The horses moved fast, eager to be home. Despite my fears, I drifted away, and It wasn't until the door to the carriage opened that I realised I must have fallen asleep for a time. Unfurling from my position in the corner, I blinked blearily to find the red-eyed butler holding out a white-gloved hand in offering. A small, seemingly harmless smile across his handsome face.   
  
“We have arrived at last, Miss Harp. Do forgive me for the long and tedious journey. I hope that you weren't too uncomfortable?”   
  
After absorbing the smooth clarity of his voice, it registered that he was, in fact, asking me a question.   
  
I didn't answer him. Instead, I resorted to staring at him as if he were some kind of poisonous snake to be wary of. Pushing the blanket away, I ignored his outstretched hand and slid down from the coach without his aid. Even though he wore gloves, I refused to touch him. My pride was still sore from his conniving meddling into my simple, yet peaceful life. I was still feeling hurt and betrayed at the way the others back at the den had idly traded me to him for food and money as If I were nothing but cattle.   
  
I could feel his eyes on me as I pretended to straighten at my skirts.   
  
“Come along, this way.” Amusement laced his tone, setting my teeth on edge. His refined way of speaking made me feel inadequate and below him, like some kind of illiterate village idiot.   
  
Reluctant, I followed after him, staring up at the huge building that stood before us. The manor, simply put, was magnificent. A palace of grandeur and elegance. It's cream stone structure towered high, as though built by the hands of God himself. White columns stood tall like guardians beside the doors and arched windows. The immaculate gardens surrounding it were unlike anything I had ever seen before, beautiful and designed to perfection. Every single detail was chosen carefully, with care and precision. Such a place was surely only fit for a king.   
  
I must have been gawping as I heard a low chuckle and snapped my head around to find Sebastian watching me closely. His crimson eyes were slid sideways towards me, eerily observant.   
  
“Welcome, my dear, to the Phantomhive Manor. It is the house and residence of my Lord and master, Earl Ciel Phantomhive... I believe you have already made his acquaintance.”   
  
“I have?” I searched my mind for it, concluding that he must be referring to the young boy he had been with at the marketplace.   
  
“Why, yes, the same gentleman that you seemed so reluctant to steal from.”   
  
I froze, stunned. I could hear my own words being repeated to me, reminding me of that moment...

 _He’s only a boy. I won’t do it, it’s not right._  
  
“But...” I frowned, struggling to keep my composure. How had he known about that?   
  
Sebastian flashed me a sly wink before continuing his way towards the house, not once faltering in his graceful steps. The edges of his long tailcoat fluttered, reminding me of the massive wings that I had once seen coming from his back when I had touched him. Black as raven feathers, just like his hair.   
  
“Come now, Miss Harp, do not tarry. My young lord will be waiting.”   
  
Part of me faltered, urging me to listen to reason. How did he know so much about me? I couldn't seem to fathom it. Deciding to tread with caution, I followed him up the marble steps and in through the massive double doors. The inside of the manor was equally extravagant, with gold-framed pictures hanging from the white walls and statues of various designs placed around the foyer.   
  
“This way, if you please,” Sebastian called from the top of the large curving stairs. How he had gotten up there so fast was beyond me.   
  
Traipsing up the steps after him, I stared up at the high arching ceiling and the crystalline chandelier at its centre, knowing full well that just one tiny gem from it would be worth a small fortune. As we reached the second floor, I cringed, staring down at my sodden boots and then the immaculate cream carpet beneath them. Sebastian glided towards a set of doors, knocking on its surface, before reaching for the handle.   
  
“I must ask that you wait here a moment, please. I shall introduce you shortly,” he said, not even bothering to turn and look at me.   
  
“Enter,” a light, but mature voice echoed from inside, bidding entry.   
  
And with that he was gone, walking into the room and leaving me standing there in the corridor alone and bewildered.   
  
“Good evening, my young lord, forgive me for my tardiness, I had a few matters to attend to,” Sebastian said. His voice was soon joined by another softer one. Their two voices began to converse, muffled by the thickness of the wooden door. Idly, I caught random snippets of their conversation.   
  
“You brought one of them here?” The young master’s tone sounded displeased if a little surprised.   
  
“Oh, she shall be no trouble, my lord. I can promise that much.”   
  
As they continued their discussion, I couldn't help but become further confused. The butler, Sebastian, had given the impression that the Lord Phantomhive had known about me and had even welcomed me here. Yet, why did it seem like he was completely clueless about my existence? I even recalled Mr Michaelis telling Peter back at the den that it was the young lord who had sent them the food and money...   
  
Yet clearly that wasn't the case.   
  
A shiver ran down my back, warning me that something was amiss here. Something definitely wasn’t right. The feeling sunk into the pit of my being, almost choking me, demanding that I get as far away from the house, and the butler, as possible.   
  
I turned, facing towards the stairs, with every intention of running down them towards the front entrance. I barely made it one step before the doors behind me suddenly ripped open, making me startle with a squeak.   
  
A hulking shadow descended upon my form, swallowing me into its shape. Wide-eyed, I stared up into Sebastian’s smiling face. With his long black-clad arms splayed wide, he looked like some kind of bird of prey, ready to swoop down and snatch me up in its talons.   
  
“Going somewhere?” He asked silkily.   
  
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. Nervous.   
  
“I..er...”   
  
His hand found my shoulder, pulling me into the room with frightening ease. I could feel the heaviness of his touch through my gown, burning me. My senses reeled as I stumbled forward. Dazed, I took in the finely furnished room, my eyes flying from the large arching windows to the tall bookshelves and the desk beyond them. A young boy sat before it, watching them both with a solemn expression. I recognised him instantly.   
  
So this was him? The Phantomhive Earl. Blue eyes narrowed at me; one covered by a dark circular patch.   
  
“I’ll have you know that I hold thieves and traitors in the highest of contempt,” he said finally, breaking the long silence.   
  
I remained quiet, unsure of what to say.   
  
The Earl lifted a finely painted china cup to his lips, taking a small sip before placing it upon the table. The willowy butler was suddenly there, leaning over him with a teapot to refill it.   
  
“Sebastian has explained your situation to me,” Lord Phantomhive began, almost with disinterest. “And while I do not fully understand his reasoning for bringing you here, it seems we are in a bit of a stalemate.”   
  
I sighed. “Please, you must know that

I didn’t intend for any of this to happen,” I said, hoping that somehow he would understand my plight.   
  
“My butler informs me that you have quite a talent. Is that true?”   
  
I looked away, my hands sliding behind my back in an unconscious gesture to hide them from his scrutiny. I didn’t want them asking such personal questions, nor would I provide any answers for them. My secrets were my own.   
  
I shrugged. “What does it matter?” I said a little too sharply and then softened my tone into that of a pleading nature. “Look, I cannot apologise enough for what has happened. If I had known what he was...” I trailed off, my gaze sliding towards the incredibly tall figure standing at the Earl’s side like a silent sentry.   
  
The boy leaned forward slightly, his eye widening with a gleam. “So… You know what he is then?”   
  
I realised my error quickly. I tightened my lips, refusing to say any more. What more could I do? I had already apologised, yet it did not seem to be enough to soothe the situation. Part of me had clung to the tiny thread of hope that maybe I would be forgiven and allowed to return to the den and the others. That maybe this young Earl would have no need to keep me here and allow me to leave. Yet his next words squashed that hope like a bug beneath his finely polished shoe.   
  
“I hope you realise that this makes things troublesome for us,” the Earl said, crossing his arms. “It’s too late to turn back now, what is done is done.”   
  
“I won’t tell anyone,” I murmured, trying to sound as contrite as possible. I glanced towards Mr Michaelis, but then dropped my eyes quickly at the small smile he threw my way. “Can’t you just… let me go? Or perhaps alter my memories so that we can forget any of it ever happened?”   
  
Sebastian’s lifted a brow at that, tilting his dark head, considering the option. The curve of his lips rose higher, turning calculating, causing my skin to chill with unease.   
  
“Indeed, I believe that is a possible alternative to this little mishap. However, it is one I would much rather avoid.”   
  
I frowned, taken aback. I was on the verge of asking him why, when the Earl’s head tilted to him, brow lowered in question and obvious suspicion.   
  
“Oh? And why is that?” The boy asked, beating me to it.   
  
“Simply because Miss Harp is a very capable young lady, My Lord. With a little training and guidance, I believe she could become a great asset to us here at the manor. Why take such hasty actions when much more suitable and pleasant ones are available? Don’t you agree?”   
  
“And pray tell, since when did you make the decisions in this household? You are not the master of this house,” the Earl bit out, clearly annoyed.   
  
Sebastian placed a gloved hand upon his breast before lowering down into a kneel at his master’s side. “My goodness, but of course not, My Lord. What an unthinkable thing to say.” Though his bearing and manner were one of contrition and apology, there was a slight lilt to his words. Cunning and sly, like a fox. “Surely you must know that I only had your good name and reputation at heart.”   
  
“Of course you did.” Came the curt, dry reply. The Earl considered me for a moment, taking me in from head to toe. “Very well…” He said after a pause, “I am willing to see how things play out with this peculiar situation. I will trust your judgement, this once. But you must be sure that you teach her well. I do not want any more idle or incompetent servants in my household.”   
  
“Most certainly, My Lord.” The butler’s maroon eyes rose to me, stealing away my courage. “Rest assured that I will tutor her most thoroughly. Leave it to me.”   
  
And just like that, they had made my choice for me, not even asking for my feelings on the matter. Could they not see that I wanted to go home? I wanted so much to refuse them, yet worried at what consequences that would lead to for the others back at the den. I didn’t want them to suffer, despite the fact they had already abandoned me to my fate.   
  
I grew silent, only snapping from my reverie by Sebastian appearing at my side, ushering me away and towards the door with a gesture of his long arm.   
  
“Come, Miss Harp. I will show you to your room.”   
  
Dazed, I followed him out of the room, not once looking back to the boy at the desk. Like a spectre, I wandered after the butler, following at his back as we weaved through the various corridors of the manor; there were so many twists and places to become lost in. Sebastian spoke lowly, showing me various rooms as we passed by them, though I stared at them with an empty gaze, trapped in the fog of my own turmoil.   
  
Mr Michaelis paused, turning to settle his feline-like eyes upon my face. “You will wake up at five in the morning with the other servants and finish at six in the evening. Sundays are your own to do as you please.”   
  
I paused at that, surprised. “I get the _whole_ Sunday off?”   
  
Sebastian gave a gentle, yet amused smile. “Indeed, I hope that you find the arrangement agreeable?”   
  
I choked on a laugh. Agreeable? Was he daft? The most a person in service could ever hope to expect was half a morning of purely for attending church, and some didn’t even get that. To be given the whole day off was indeed very generous. Unsure of what to say, I nodded.   
  
“Good,” he said before opening the door beside him and ushering me inside. “Now, this is where you shall sleep.”   
  
Wide-eyed, I stared around the small, but cosy chamber, stunned by how lovely it was. A dressing table sat against one wall. An elegant, yet tall wardrobe rested at its side. There was a full-length mirror in one corner, and a small bed covered in thick coverlets. A soft pastel yellow coloured the walls, making the area bright and welcoming; delicately feminine in style.   
  
“How beautiful,” I whispered, fingers reaching out to trail across the smooth blanket, following the pretty flowery pattern embroidered on the fabric. I had never had a room of my own before, let alone one like this.   
  
“This...” I began with hesitation, lifting my uncertain gaze to Sebastian’s immaculately smooth face. “I can stay here? This will be _my_ room?”   
  
I expected a trick of some kind, yet there was no jest in his expression as he nodded, rewarding me with a low chuckle. “But of course, my dear. Where did you think you would stay? Did you think we would be barbarians and throw you into the stables with the horses?”   
  
Actually, yes. Yes, I did. I returned to staring about the room, taking in every single detail with wonderment.   
  
Sebastian glided towards the window, loosening the curtain ties one by one before drawing the drapes closed, smoothing them into place with careful fingers. The area grew darker, but a set of flickering candles on the bedside table kept the room alight. It was then I noticed the plate of food waiting beside them, covered in a variety of foods, from cheese, fruit and a thick wedge of crusty bread. My stomach rumbled, mouth watering at the sight.   
  
I wrenched my gaze away just as Sebastian pulled something long and white from the wardrobe nearby, laying it across the edge of the bed with delicate movements. A nightdress of some kind.   
  
For a moment, I simply stared at him, taking in his lithe, slender form. His eyes flashed up to me, eerily luminous in the low light.   
  
Who was he? Who was this strange creature before me who composed himself like a man and yet hid such a powerful presence within him? He had manipulated and forced his way into my life, and yet now showed as much kindness and patience of a saint. The man was truly an enigma; nothing about him seemed logical or certain. Ever changing like a brewing storm.   
  
“Help yourself to whatever you desire,” he said, gesturing towards the bed and food, “I have also provided some water for you to toilet and wash, should you wish to. Should you need anything for your comfort, please, be sure to let me know.” The butler paused for a moment, taking me in with a certain slowness. “In the meantime, I shall bid you goodnight. Get some rest, Miss Harp. You shall begin promptly in the morning.”   
  
He gave a slight bow of his head in courtesy before turning away towards the door.   
  
“Thank you,” I whispered the words so quietly, I wondered if he even heard me. Part of me wanted him to stay; I had questions, so many things to ask him. Most of all I wanted to ask… Why me? Why had he done all of this and brought me here?   
  
He stilled. A gloved hand hovered at the door handle. Slowly, his head turned, his handsome profile peering back over his shoulder towards me. A gentle smile touched his lips.   
  
“You’re most welcome, my dear,” he said softly as though sensing my unease. “Rest assured, you are in good hands here.”   
  
And with that, he was gone, leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind him. I stood there in the silence, the events of the day rushing at me like a sandstorm, robbing me of my strength. With a deep sigh, I dropped down upon the bed, laying back against the blankets. Weariness flew at me, no longer willing to be denied. The flames of the candles cast shadows across the ceiling, making them dance like dark ghosts before my tired vision. So much had happened and all in just one day. A twinge of sadness sprouted as I wondered what the others at the den were doing right at this very moment. Were they thinking of me? Or perhaps too busy gorging themselves on their feast and spending their coins?   
  
I shouldn’t have felt unhappy, not when such luxury sat around me. Yet I was. Doubt and dread swarmed around me. Everything had changed so quickly. I couldn’t help but feel out of place here, like a pebble amongst a mountain of shining diamonds.   
  
For what felt like an age, I simply lay there, staring into the gloom. Confused, lost... and very much alone.


End file.
